


it's so romantic, I panic

by orphan_account



Category: 2NE1
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 06:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chaerin doesn’t get why she always ends up doing these things in reverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's so romantic, I panic

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://kpop-olymfics.livejournal.com/profile)[**kpop_olymfics**](http://kpop-olymfics.livejournal.com/) 2013, Team Canon. Title from _Disgusting_ , by Ke$ha. Thank you to[](http://loudestoflove.livejournal.com/profile)[ **loudestoflove**](http://loudestoflove.livejournal.com/) for beta-ing, and [](http://gdgdbaby.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://gdgdbaby.livejournal.com/)**gdgdbaby** for timeline wrangling!

They’re drunk.

Of course they’re drunk, right?

They’ve been drinking and Minji is twenty, and when she’d put on bright red lipstick in the hall mirror, Dara had sighed happily and teased her about being their grown-up maknae.

Chaerin pushes her up against the mirror and ignores the way it wobbles. Minji leans into it, so Chaerin can just see the edges of her face reflected around Minji’s hair.

Minji grins and Chaerin focuses, pressing close enough that she can bite Minji’s bottom lip. She can feel some of what’s left of the lipstick, sticky and rubbing off under her teeth, and with her hand against Minji’s stomach, the angle of her wrist is starting to hurt.

But if she sweeps her thumb, Chaerin can feel the solid muscle under Minji’s shirt and to Chaerin’s surprise, it makes Minji tense and give a tiny hiccup of a gasp.

Chaerin moves closer.

She can feel it on her nose when Minji exhales slowly, breath warm and tinged with alcohol. It makes Chaerin’s heart start hammering again, the way it had in the taxi every time she’d felt Minji inch across the seat towards her, both of them staring straight ahead.

She knows Minji can tell, the sound louder than anything else in the hallway, but she just stands there, stomach rising and falling under Chaerin’s hand.

They’re still for too long, long enough that Chaerin’s common sense starts to peek out from under the soju and ask what’s happening, so she just shrugs and finally moves close enough to kiss her.  
Minji is enthusiastic, and not as sloppy as Chaerin might expect – like she has practice, but who would Minji have been kissing, how would Chaerin not know – and it’s only a minute before she’s trying to lick her way into Chaerin’s mouth. It’s nice, but Chaerin’s hand is starting to hurt and it’s increasingly distracting.

Chaerin pulls her hand away and shakes the cramp out of her wrist. She ignores Minji’s frown growing against her lips and slides it between them again, fingers tip-toeing up Minji’s stomach, underneath her shirt. Her skin is soft and Chaerin thinks she’s just a little ticklish from the way her chest moves under Chaerin’s hand.

 

She reaches her bra and starts to move her hand to the right a little dip her fingers under, but Minji pushes lightly at her stomach, pulling her arm out from under her shirt.

“Let’s go to your room,” Minji says softly, dragging her fingers against the back of Chaerin’s neck and making her spine prickle. It takes Chaerin a minute, focus firmly on Minji’s collarbone where Chaerin’s pushed away her shirt, but it makes it to her eventually.

“No,” Chaerin says, lifting her head. “Your room.” Minji raises an eyebrow.

“We’re in your apartment,” she says, and Chaerin blinks.

“And we’re not going back to mine,” Minji continues and stands up straight, pushing Chaerin away and off-balance. Chaerin stumbles backwards and ends up leaning on the wall by her room, her hip cocked, and Minji breaks into giggles.

“Are you going to invite me in?” Minji asks, and it’s a harder question than it should be. Minji walks towards her, hips tilting a little more than usual.

“Alright,” she says when Minji’s within kissing distance again, and she punctuates it by leaning forward to stick her tongue in Minji’s mouth. “Alright,” she repeats after a minute, pulling away. “Come in.”

Chaerin only opens the door a crack, but Minji pushes it wide open behind her as she comes in. She doesn’t close it either, and Chaerin turns to snap at her and finds Minji looking around her room, almost staring.

“What are you doing?” she slurs, a little. “Close the door, get over here.”

“I’m just taking advantage of the opportunity,” Minji says, revolving slowly on the spot. Chaerin huffs and throws herself back on the bed.

“Take advantage of _this_ ,” she says and pulls off her shirt, throwing it at Minji’s head. It barely makes it to her feet but it still gets Minji to stare at Chaerin instead. Chaerin feels a little less exposed, more in charge, so she closes her eyes, and runs the tips of her fingers underneath the waistband of her shorts. She’s warm all over, but her hand heats up as she slips it further towards her panties. She’d forgotten the lace edges, and she plays with it against her thigh before she tucks two fingers underneath, across her clit.

She opens her eyes, and Minji is right next to her, about to put a knee on the bed. She’s staring at Chaerin’s face instead of her hand, and Chaerin snorts.

“You want in on this now?” she asks, and drags her fingers down her clit, arching her back a little more than strictly necessary, but it makes Minji’s eyes go nice and wide, and Chaerin can see her fingers twitch.

“Come here,” Chaerin says, and this time Minji does, kneeling to one side of Chaerin and leaning down to kiss her. Her lips seem softer now, and Chaerin wonders if she managed to kiss most of her lipstick away. It’s too dark in her room to tell.

She curves her back a little again to get up against Minji as they kiss, and she can just barely feel the sheerness of Minji’s shirt against her nipples, through her bra. Chaerin pulls away and says, “Everything off,” reaching down for her skirt.

“Allow me,” Minji says, muffled, from somewhere underneath her shirt, and then it’s disappeared and she’s scooting down the bed and straddling Chaerin’s legs. She fiddles with the buttons, and starts to giggle as each one takes her a little longer. Chaerin should probably help but she’s comfortable watching Minji get to work, finally pulling the shorts down and scooting farther back on her haunches. Chaerin watches her breasts bounce and feels her cunt pulse a little more firmly.

Minji bends forward and rests her chin on Chaerin’s belly first. She smiles and Chaerin smiles a little back as she makes herself comfortable in the pillows she’d left here just in case. Minji winks, surprisingly, then swiftly ducks her head so it’s between Chaerin’s thighs and sucks on her clit. Chaerin sighs and rolls her hips gently against Minji’s face, which makes Minji sputter for a second, but she adapts, one arm curled around Chaerin’s thigh.

Minji’s alright at this – who has she been eating out, Chaerin’s brain prompts a little frantically – and she settles into a rhythm that has Chaerin squirming, her spine warm and feet starting to tingle, with one hand grabbing at the blankets. The other she stretches down to run through Minji’s hair but her perspective must be off, because she ends up stroking a thumb along her cheekbone. Minji looks up at her, meets her eyes, and Chaerin’s whole body lights up, a warm buzzing across her belly and through her fingers. Minji licks her clit hard and firm, without looking away, and Chaerin manages to grab Minji’s hair as she comes, her legs shaking.

Minji crawls up her, and even in the dark Chaerin can tell her face is wet. She has just enough energy to kiss her, softly, and press Minji down against her thigh. It’s barely a minute before Minji comes too, crying into Chaerin’s mouth.

Chaerin rolls Minji off her and scoots far enough over to leave her room. It barely occurs to her that Minji never even took her skirt off before she’s asleep.

 

-

 

Dara is cooking before Chaerin can even drag herself out of bed, so when she finally makes it down the hall, it’s to the smell of breakfast and a bowl already at her plate. She flaps a hand at Dara as she slumps into her seat, and Dara laughs too loud and high-pitched, because in eight years Chaerin has never once seen her hungover.

When Minji wanders into the kitchen, Chaerin looks up despite her best efforts. She’s bleary-eyed, wearing a pair of Chaerin’s pajamas, which sends a fizz of irritation through Chaerin’s hangover, and clearly trying to pat down her hair without touching her head. Chaerin snorts and Minji jumps, gently hitting herself in the head and wincing.

Behind them, Dara turns around, says, “Minji-ah?” with confusion. Minji freezes, hand still resting on her temple. Chaerin buries her face in her bowl.

“Unnie,” Minji says, without any sense of a continuing statement. Chaerin can feel Dara staring at her through her protective curtain of hair, but it’s too early in the morning for Chaerin to put her neck on the line.

Dara clicks her tongue. “Did you forget your security code last night, Minji? I know you two were tired, but you could have told us you were leaving. I don’t mind,” she adds, as Chaerin hears the sound of her pulling dishes out of their cabinet, “but I’m sure Chaerin’s floor isn’t that comfortable!”

“Oh,” Minji says slowly. “Of course. It was fine.”

“Yeah,” Chaerin mutters into her soup. She’s not sure if anyone even hears.

 

-

 

“Where’s Minji?” Chaerin asks the empty gym.

“And here I thought you’d come to work out with me,” Master Hwang says, and Chaerin jumps. He emerges from behind a weight machine, holding what looks like a crate of dumbbells.

“She was in here before,” he says, “but Youngdeuk came by. Try one of the studios.” Chaerin bows and backs out before he decides to test her endurance. She’s been skipping “self-discipline” sessions and she’s pretty sure he knows.

She finds them in the smaller studio. Youngdon is sitting on the bench by the door when she slips in, and he looks up and nods at her.

Youngdeuk and Minji don’t even notice. Chaerin thinks they’re playing Omarion but she can barely hear it over the sudden blood rush in her ears. Minji is smooth and sharp and focused and covered in sweat. Chaerin forgets how well she dances more often than she deserves. Their routines have to be easy enough that the rest of them can keep up and Minji masters them twice as fast, throwing in little tricks and variants while the rest of them are still practicing.

Chaerin doesn’t remember seeing either of them dance the routine they’re doing now before, and it looks too risky for any kind of 2NE1 concert. She tries to focus on the technical aspects of the dance, appreciate the choreography, but it’s overpowered by the way Minji focuses on her bodyrolls  
The song ends before Chaerin passes out, or does something stupid, and she claps a little when Youngdon applauds overdramatically. Minji grins at them, and Chaerin’s heart thunks once, stupidly, against her ribcage.

“You look good,” Chaerin says stiffly. “It’s good to see you’re practicing. Don’t let me – I think I’ll go.” She gets up and practically stumbles out, without saying goodbye to Youngdeuk or Youngdon.

“Okay,” Minji says before the door closes behind her.

 

-

 

Chaerin’s been spraying her room with perfume every morning for a week, and being thorough, touching up her dresser and the bed and the curtains before she throws them open. The smell of sex and sweat-drenched fabric is long gone but everything still has a hint of a smell of Minji, even though Chaerin couldn’t have placed the smell of Minji in a line-up before this week. At first she thought it was a little like rosepetals, but now she can tell it’s more like the air in the practice room and leather, with that tinge of dog smell that never goes away.

It’s been a week and Chaerin knows what Minji smells like now, is engulfed in it every time she tries to retreat to her room. Every time, she ends up pacing her room, spraying it with perfumes and deodorizers and whatever she can get her hands on and eventually barging out to the living room, claiming the couch until she’s too exhausted to care. Dara hasn’t asked, but Chaerin knows she’s curious underneath the polite pretense of ignorance. She hopes it holds, because she wouldn’t know how to answer.

Her room feels smaller, too. Not like the walls are closing in on her, but like she’s sharing the space now. It isn’t just her room anymore, and Chaerin’s alarmed even as the thought occurs to her. She throws open her curtains again and lets the light in, but it doesn’t do enough, and Chaerin is left trying to rebuild her space.

 

-

 

“I think I need to move out,” Chaerin says when they’re both home one afternoon without anything to do. Dara’s already in her pajamas, curled around her iPad on the couch as Chaerin lies on the floor, staring at the ceiling and replying to Jiyong’s texts faster than he replies to hers.

“Getting a little too homey for you,” Dara says without looking up. Chaerin sucks in a deep breath, like she’d been more worried than she thought. Maybe that is what it is, the way they’ve developed this strange little domestic routine putting her on edge. Dara understands her more than she realizes, sometimes.

“You might as well be knitting,” Chaerin says, and she’s relieved when Dara laughs. As she sits up, drawing her knees towards her chest, Dara puts her iPad next to her on the couch and tilts her head at Chaerin, although she’s still smiling.

“You are alright?” Dara asks. “You’ve been. Well, you know.” Chaerin nods, but she still doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m fine,” she offers, “I just have a lot of spare energy lately. Spare time.” Dara sighs and Chaerin wishes she felt guilty for bringing it up. It’s not like Dara doesn’t know. The silence drags out, though, as Dara struggles for what Chaerin assumes are condolences.  
Chaerin’s phone buzzes, finally, and she dives for it.

 

-

 

“Where are you?” Dara says, and Chaerin jams the heel of her palm against her other ear.

“New York,” she repeats. “The city.” Jeremy is trying to wave her over to talk to someone again, and she nods at him, then turns away, retreating into the recesses of the crowd.

“Since when, Chaerin?” Dara asks.

“A couple days,” Chaerin says. “Jeremy wanted me to see his show.”

“Oh?” Dara says. “What are we going to wear next tour?”

“Fur, I think. Maybe claws?” Chaerin says, and ignores the way her stomach sinks at the idea of a “next tour”.

Dara laughs and growls, but it sounds more like Dougie than Jeremy’s fantasy monsters. Her stomach swoops again.

“Chaerin?” Dara says, and she sounds very far away.

“Did you need something, unnie?” Chaerin says, and tries not to wince at how sharp she sounds.

“You just disappeared. No warning."

“No one at YG misses me,” Chaerin says, and there, again, like the farther away she gets from Gangnam the easier it is to start saying all the nasty things that coil in her gut when Teddy avoids her in the hallway and Hyunsuk just tells her to support Hayi.

Dara is silent in a way Chaerin can’t read, unsettlingly, like she can’t envision her face at all.

“Minji was asking if anyone had seen you,” Dara says finally, and Chaerin nearly falls over, her heels abruptly seeming more precarious than when Jeremy had handed them to her this morning.

“Well, you know where I am now,” Chaerin says hastily. “And I’ll be back soon. I have to go, Jeremy wants me to meet someone, I think.”

“Let us know when you’re home,” Dara says, and hangs up before Chaerin can.

 

-

 

A model walks out in a yellow fuzzy full body costume, and Chaerin thinks about Dara asking what they’d be wearing next tour. Suddenly, she can see Minji wearing it onstage, trying to dance and she nearly laughs out loud.

Paying attention to the show is hopeless now, suddenly, because all Chaerin can see is Minji in every outfit; Minji as a model, Minji trying to dance, Minji walking around Seoul and laughing and getting just drunk enough to need Chaerin to hold her up on the way home and taking the excuse to rub her nose against her neck.

Chaerin doesn’t even realize the show’s finished until Rocky is tugging her backstage towards Jeremy, who is surrounded by a crowd of people, but he parts them the second he sees her. “What did you think?”

“It was like a dream,” Chaerin says, and smiles, and a camera goes off as Jeremy’s face lights up.

When I-D tells her they want her to wear things from Jeremy’s new line for the shoot, including the yellow fuzzy nightmare, Chaerin tells them to choose whatever they want. On the set, she just about manages to think about nothing at all.

 

-

 

When she gets back, she gives the cabdriver the wrong address, at first. They’re nearly at the old building before she realizes and hastily redirects him to her apartment. He grumbles so she tips him extra as she gets out, dragging her bags with her towards the lobby.

She pulls out her laptop instead of unpacking. The apartment itself is still pretty bare, so the suitcases sitting neatly by her bed fit, in a way. Chaerin had barely moved in before Jeremy had called and she’d gone running, because Jeremy was high on advantages and low on stress and she had thought it was exactly what she needed.

Instead, she’s home again and still wound up, the last few New York interviews a blur of similar questions and identical photographers, with Chaerin’s brain functions focused almost solely on Minji. Jeremy had been confused, and a little affronted by the time she left. She’d send him a gift basket or something.

Sometime in the last day Dara had sent her an email with the preview pictures for all their April covers; no message, but a few smiling emoticons, and Chaerin makes a note to send her something too. Her pictures were alright; she’d nearly forgotten the shoot by this point.

She keeps scrolling through Dara and Bom’s, and reaches Minji’s before she’s thought it through. The dresses are nearly ridiculous, even in light of spending a week with Jeremy, but Minji looks sharp and happy and older. A little like a soloist, and Chaerin finds herself smiling even though she barely knows why.

The taxi’s gone by the time she gets outside again, of course, and Chaerin decides she’s not in the mood. Her shoes are flat and it’s barely two miles to the YG building, and if Minji isn’t there, it’s only a matter of time.

 

-

 

“It wasn’t that good, alright?” Chaerin says, and is belatedly grateful that Minji is alone in the practice room.

“Hi,” Minji says. “And you mean…New York?”

“I mean, it was good for being drunk, but by general standards, it was just okay.” Chaerin knows she’s steamrolling her but at least Minji’s on the same page as her now, the color rising a little in her cheeks.

“Alright,” Minji says. “If you say so? Did you need to get that off your chest?”

“Yes,” Chaerin nearly screams, then tries to stop herself, organize her thoughts. It’s only a little successful, as things to say occur to her but she loses them in the face of Minji, still staring.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Chaerin hisses, and she can tell her face is getting blotchy and red from the warmth in her cheeks, and this whole thing is exactly what she didn’t want. Minji is staring, eyebrows raised.

“You barely talk to me,” Minji says. Chaerin resists the urge to cover her face with her hands. She couldn’t tell if this was less awful than two months of preoccupation, but it wasn’t good.

“I know,” Chaerin says. “I know, and I know we haven’t been close before – before your birthday.”

“Or since,” Minji says, and she’s still blushing a little but she almost sounds amused and it’s nearly enough to get Chaerin’s hackles up again.

“Would you stop?” Chaerin says, and sighs and puts her thumbs to her temples and presses so hard she almost imagines she can feel them touch.

“I’m a little confused,” Minji says softly.

“Yeah, me too,” Chaerin snaps. “And exhausted and sick of being preoccupied with you, and I’m not going to be coy and pretend I don’t know why but I want it to stop.”

“Really?” Minji says quickly, then looks like she regrets it. Chaerin’s chest tightens and then releases, expanding, her heart swelling in weird, uncomfortable ways.

“It’s distracting,” she mumbles, and Minji looks a little flattered.

“I’m not going to be coy and pretend I’m on the same page,” Minji says, and Chaerin rolls her eyes. “But even though you said, uh, it was just okay, I thought it was pretty nice.”

“So?” Chaerin says, berating herself for sounding a little eager.

“Maybe we can take it slower?” Minji offers, and shrugs, like she’s nonchalant when Chaerin can see her hands shaking.

“Very slow,” Chaerin says, and frowns, but her chest feels lighter than it has in weeks.

 

-

 

“I love you all very much,” Dara says, “but tattoos are a very permanent thing!” Chaerin can see Minji rolling her eyes from behind Bom.

“Are we not permanent enough for you?” Chaerin teases, and Dara squawks.

“I don’t mean it like that! It’s just the needles,” Dara says and shudders. Bom grabs Dara’s face and shakes her head gently, squeezing her cheeks before she lets go.

“Needles are good for you,” Bom chirps, “and it’ll be quick if they’re small!”

“What if we draw them on first,” Minji suggests. “Just as a trial period.” Bom wrinkles her nose but Dara beams at Minji, so Chaerin starts hunting through her bag for the marker she’d stashed there the other day.

“I want the spade,” she says when she finally pulls it out. She hands it off to no one in particular, but Bom grabs it and then hooks her hand around Chaerin’s wrist to start drawing.

“I’m the diamond,” Bom says when she’s done, and Dara takes the pen and nods enthusiastically. Chaerin tries to the take the marker back after but Dara pulls away and shakes her head.

“Minji has to do me, so it’s a circle,” Dara says, before passing the marker off to Minji. Chaerin clenches her fingers unconsciously as Minji carefully traces a club onto Dara’s wrist.

Finally, Minji passes the marker back to her and offers her wrist. Chaerin grabs it, then pulls her around so Minji’s standing next to her.

“I can’t do it upside down,” she mutters, and doesn’t look at Minji’s face as she draws a heart in between two veins. “There. Someone take a picture.”

Dara pulls out her phone, and pushes and tugs them until she can get all four arms in the picture. Minji’s wrist, with its heart, rests by Chaerin’s elbow and Chaerin stares at it as Dara’s phone clicks.

“See, unnie,” Minji says, “it’ll be okay,” and Chaerin doesn’t care who she’s talking to as she looks up into Minji’s smile.


End file.
